


Hellfire and Bookshops

by WhatButAVillain



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 07:27:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19194400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatButAVillain/pseuds/WhatButAVillain
Summary: What if the demons went after both Crowley and Aziraphale at the end of the world? The bookshop fire is caused not by a candle but by Hellfire. What does that mean for the traitorous duo.





	1. Crowley

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request on tumblr from nowhere-dawn-death-phan. Hope you all enjoy and don't be afraid to leave a comment. And if anyone wants to beta or otherwise talk headcannons don't be afraid to message me. I love talking to others about my current obsessions.

_This was going to be fun_ , Dagon thinks as she walks down the London street swinging the bucket in her hand. The traitor is going to pay and this is going to be the perfect way to start the Great War ™. The death of an angel at Hell’s hands. Hastur and Ligur are currently gathering the traitor Crowley to bring him back to face Hell’s infernal devices but his little boy toy is going to pay big for this. A demonic giggle escapes her as she thinks of what the snake in the grass, two-timing viper is going to do when he learns what happens to his little collaborator. _He might even cry_ , Dagon thinks with glee.

Coming to a stop in front of A. Zira Fell’s bookstore, she sickers demonically again before throwing the bucket of fire through the glass window into the store and walking away. Screaming follows her through the street as the passersby take note of the spreading fire and the squeal of tires echo through the cramped street as a big black Bentley comes to a screeching halt. By then Dagon has sunk back to the depths of Hell.

“No no nonononononononono.” Crowley mutters leaping from the car and racing for the door of the shop where Aziraphale is always found. The distress of the humans around him at the spreading fire is nothing on his radar as he bursts through the door. “Aziraphale! Aziraphale, where are you?” His voice cracks on the smoke filling the room as centuries of historic literature go up in flames and the paper and book glue give off an acrid burning scent. The fire licks at Crowley’s skin and he knows that no angel can have survived the burning of the Hellfire that surrounds him like a second skin and brings a fiery warmth to his flesh. _NO! SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT!! Aziraphale!_

‘Come with me. We can go away together.’ _Togethertogethertogether._

‘Angel, get in the car.’

‘Alpha Centauri.’

‘I won’t even think of you.’

Images of their fight flash through his mind as the terror of losing his best friend and the pain of the high pressured water hose hit him knocking him to the ground with the force of the reality.

Aziraphale is gone. Gone in Hellfire. “Why didn’t you just say yes?! You idiot!" He screams in anguish. "SOMEONE KILLED MY BEST FRIEND!” Demons don’t cry. Physiologically they can’t. But Crowley’s serpentine eyes are trying to do exactly that right at that moment. As he levers himself off the ground, thoughts of having kidnapped the angel to save him ringing through his mind. His dazed mind recognizes the burning book that Aziraphale was reading on his desk and he takes the time to grab the book before his thoughts begin to intrude into his thoughtless stupor. _I need alcohol_ . _I need copious amounts of alcohol. Aziraphale. AziraphaleAziraphaleAziraphaleAziraphaleAziraphaleAziraphaleAziraphaleAziraphale..._ The angels name on repeat as he walks out of the burning building in a daze. Climbing viciously into the Bentley, Crowley tears out at high speed into the traffic of London.

_I destroyed a demon to get back to you. Should have run away. They killed you. I killed you. DAMN THEM! Bastards! I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t push harder. I’m sorry we didn’t have more time. I’m sorry I’m sorryI’msorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry._


	2. Aziraphale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale is in the book shop as the Hellfire strikes.

It was the sound of breaking glass that startled him out of his daze first. The bucket of fire was just what caused him to jump into action. His immediate response was to miracle it away and when that didn’t work to grab water. But then the smell of it hit. The smell of brimstone...and sulphur. Hellfire. In his shop.  _ Hellfire _ .  _ This...this is the opposite of good. This is bad. This is very bad. How even? Why would they? Oh...oh damn. They know. They know and that means Crowley is in danger.  _ Aziraphale doesn’t even blink before miracling himself away from the shop knowing that nothing is going to stop that fire. Hellfire consumes everything divine in its path and there is no way to stop it. As much as Aziraphale would protest, his shop is held together by divinity. Plenty of miracles holding the books together as well as they do that his shop is a lost cause. But thankfully the rest of the buildings should be fine. He would hate to think of the rest of his neighbors being burnt to a crisp because of him and Crowley. 

Crowley. That’s right. He needs to get to Crowley. Showing up on the doorstep of Crowley’s apartment is not the shock. The fact that the door is ajar is. Crowley would not leave the door hanging open, he loves his privacy too much. Aziraphale slowly enters the apartment waiting to hear even a sound of conflict and hearing nothing enters a bit more bravely. He is an angel of the Lord. Guardian of the Eastern Gate and even without a flaming sword he is still a Principality and not to be trifled with. But this is Crowley we are talking about. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale hissed his voice sounding loud in the utter stillness as he makes his way into the flat. The pile of melted demon on the floor is a shock worse than the breaking of the window or of the open door. Worse even than the idea of Hellfire in his shop. The only thing that would make that kind of a mess out of a demon is Holy water. Which means that Crowley used his insurance policy. The one...the one Aziraphale gave him. Whether by accident or design can not be told now but Crowley is gone. Gone in a splash of Holy water. Gone melting into nothing but a puddle of goo and it’s all Aziraphales fault.  _ Why didn’t he just say yes. Yes. I’ll go with you.  _

‘We’re on our side.’

_ There is no our side. Not anymore.  _ Angel’s can in fact cry. And that is exactly what Aziraphale is doing at this moment.  _ I killed my best friend. _ Aziraphale loses track of how long he sits there crying over a puddle of demon but it doesn’t seem long enough when he stands on unsteady legs and makes his way to the door and down to the lobby. Alcohol. Crowley would want alcohol at a time like this. Aziraphale agrees wholeheartedly and makes his way to the little bar that they frequented together often. It’s when he sees Crowley sitting and drinking that he comes out of his stupor enough to form another coherent thought. Crowley is drinking. Crowley is not a puddle on the floor of his apartment. His relief is palpable as he makes his way over quickly to Crowley’s table and sits down heavily across from him.    
  
“Crowley! Crowley, dear boy. I thought I lost you. I thought...” Aziraphale’s rambling is broken by a destroyed sob from across from the table. 

“Aziraphale! How are you...? I was at your shop. Hellfire.” Crowley’s wrecked voice echoes across the table as he lunges forward to grab at the angel’s hands.

“I was at your flat. Holy water.” Aziraphale responds with a torn sob as well. 

“No. Not me Hastur.” Crowley explains while not explaining anything. 

“Not me either, dear boy. My books yes but not me.” Aziraphale says regret and relief flavoring his voice.

“Books. I have one. I couldn’t stop the fire but I have one of your books. The one on your desk.” Crowley stammers excitedly as he pulls out the book from under their still combined arms. 

“Oh. Oh, My dear boy. That’s exactly what we need. We need to get to Tadfield airbase. That’s where it is all going down.”

“What’ll we do there? Do we have a plan?” Crowley asks sobering up. 

“No. But we will think of something. After all, we’re on our own side, right? Hell is trying to kill us. Heaven won’t help us. We’re on our side now.”


End file.
